Between Friends
by ithinkyourewonderful
Summary: Raydor and Johnson clash over the murder of an officer on his beat.  Each woman has something to lose, but what if they also discover something they can gain?
1. Teaser

**Title: **Between Friends - Teaser [The Closer]

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **Not mine, never was.

**Summary: **Raydor and Johnson clash over the murder of an officer on his beat. Each woman has something to lose, but what if they also discover something they can gain?

**A/N: **Brenda's first husband's name was never stated as far as I can remember; nor was Pope's first wife... So I named 'em.

* * *

The craziest thing Sharon Raydor had ever done was not so crazy - at least not compared to others.

She was forever comparing herself to others - a holdover from her childhood. A parting gift from her too distant but altogether innocuous parents.

She was 27 and took her boyfriend to see the woods, her woods, and her lake. Tim. He was blond. She thought he had brown eyes, but after all these years, she couldn't be sure. It was a cool night, with the air crisp and the water warm. The air was never crisp in L.A. She missed that - the extremes of the North East. She knew they had extremes here in L.A. - it just wasn't home. Even after all these years, it wasn't a place she had set down roots. It still seemed odd to think that this, this of all places is where Laura and Adam called home. Home to Sharon was far away and long ago. Home was New Hampshire and her parents cottage on the lake. Some nights she could remember the way the moon hung low, as if it was placed there just for them by an overly enthusiastic set designer. She wishes she could remember him more. If she really loved him like she thought she did back then, shouldn't she'd have been able to recall the feel of his hand in hers as she lead the way through the Maple trees? Or been able to remember his voice as she pushed him into the lake, only to jump in after him? Hell, shouldn't she have remembered his eye colour? She didn't. She didn't remember anything about him anymore except that they met on Graduation day, that he was blond, and he was an awful swimmer.

It hardly felt real - that night - nothing about it was believable. It was the type of night that Sharon's roommates and friends would have, never Sharon. She hated that she didn't know how to be stupid like they were, careless and fun and... And she was tired of it, so one night she took Tim up to the cottage.

It turns out Sharon Raydor could be stupid if she tried. Pretty damned stupid given she ended up pregnant.

Somewhere between the couch and the second pint of vanilla ice cream in the freezer, the cell phone on her side buzzed: "Raydor."

* * *

Brenda Leigh Johnson had done plenty of stupid things in her life.

Like, monumentally and supremely stupid. Most of these coincided with men of some kind.

The stupidest being Will Pope. She isn't sure if she meant the stupidest man, or the stupidest thing she'd done. Regardless - there was Will Pope at the head of both lists.

Her birthday was coming up - she had the same wish every year that she'd had since she was 7 - that she'd stop making stupid, stupid choices.

Maybe this was the year it came true.

She didn't know why Will was on her mind so much.

That wasn't true - she knew exactly why. Because Charlie put him there. Charlie had called to talk to someone who 'understood' her, who 'got' her, who 'knew' what she was going through - Brenda wasn't really paying attention, her niece as precious as she was, was nothing if not prone to drama and hyperbole. In fact, she was paying more attention to getting the stuck cork out of the bottle of wine when Charlie had announced she was seeing a married man.

Brenda was very pleased that she had managed to put down all glass objects before she launched into a mile-a-minute stream of consciousness rant about her niece and poor decisions. She couldn't help it - she heard the carelessness in Charlie's voice and her heart broke into a million pieces because she knew exactly where this was going and how it was going to end and there was very little she could do to circumvent it. Needless to say, the conversation ended badly.

Bad endings seemed to be the theme of her life.

She splayed her hands flat against the kitchen table taking a deep breath...and stock of all the stupid choices she'd made in her life.

If she closes her eyes it feels like the last fifteen plus years never happened. She could still hear the dripping sink in the kitchen, she could feel the sun streaming in from the windows all along the right side of the apartment - a little hole-in-the-wall on the third floor of a four story walk up in D.C.. She can remember the excitement she felt at seeing the blinking light on her answering machine and the slow and controlled breath that she let out when she would press play and hear her mother's voice instead of Will's. She can remember the creaking floorboard by the front door - she knew to step over it, but every time Will would sneak out of her bed, he's step on it, waking her.

She could warn Charlie about every lonely night, every broken promise, every holiday spent apart - but nothing will convince her. She is entirely too much like her aunt.

Brenda got up from the table, her wine forgotten and switched off the lights then climbs into bed.

Alone.

She wants thoughts of Will to leave her, but instead they get into bed with her. Somehow, it's even worse than being alone. Shouldn't she be spending her night sad about Fritz? Or thinking about him? So why is she joined by the ghosts of boyfriends past?

She closes her eyes shut tight, as if she's in a horror movie and she's too afraid to watch. She doesn't need her eyes though - she can hear Will's voice lying to her, saying he'd find a lawyer to handle the divorce next week, that he'd be moving out next month, that they'd spend next Christmas with her parents. What's worse, she can recall with a disturbing level of clarity the humiliation she felt as she believed each and every one. Her cheeks began to tint red at the fact she promised she wanted nothing, that they were both willing, adult participants in a no-strings relationship. Until she called once - right after Roger got down on one knee and proposed to her - and Patricia had picked up. She hadn't said much, just if he could call her back - it was then that Patricia told her that they were expecting. Brenda still remembers it, every word: "We're pregnant, Brenda. So I would very much appreciate it if you left us alone." then the click of the phone being put back down on the receiver.

Pope never called, Brenda said yes to Roger, and the landlord never did fix the creaky floorboard.

Before Brenda could follow memory lane down to remembering constantly driving by Will's house to see if he was home, the phone rang. Brenda felt guilty for being thankful that someone one had died, no other reason for her to be getting a call this late - it wasn't like she had friends. "Johnson!" She answered happily.

* * *

Crosstown, Will Pope slept. Soundly.

He didn't know that in less than 24 hours he'd no longer be Brenda Leigh Johnson's biggest mistake.

That dubious honour would soon be handed off to Sharon Raydor.

The phone rang off to his left and he sprang up, answering as he threw back the covers and rose out of bed and started to get dressed - "Pope."


	2. Cold Open

**Title**: Between Friends - Cold Open

**Rating**: PG

**Disclaimer**: Not mine, never was.

**Summary**: Raydor and Johnson clash over the murder of an officer on his beat. Each woman has something to lose, but what if they also discover something they can gain?

**A/N**: So - this was originally supposed to be a short little 5 parter (+ the original teaser) that I had started to help myself grasp the four act breakdown... but then it spiraled into something even messier, spanning both coasts and introducing the neglected Raydor child, Adam. But for now let's get through the first story and see what happens?

* * *

Brenda stamped her foot.

She couldn't help herself - she just seemed to react like that every time she she saw the familiar red and black tape cordoning off the crime scene. It was entirely too early in the morning for this. Or was it too late at night? Either way, she slammed the car door and headed off towards the scene - plastering on her 'not-right-now' look as she neared the pack of reporters gathered around for information.

A uniformed officer lifted up the red tape to let her pass. There was always a charge when you passed through the police tape - at least that's how Brenda felt - a little tingle of excitement that washed over her body. It was like going from the head of the line for a roller coaster to being strapped in and jolted when it started to move. You become part of something bigger than yourself, you become a part of something...more. That's the only way she could explain it to her mama when she had asked. Her father had nodded along, understanding the experience that she couldn't quite put the words to but her mama couldn't quite get it. It was like church in a way, she tried to explain - an experience that gathers people, transforms them and then sends them back out into the world - and at a crime scene Brenda Leigh Johnson was God. She had left that last bit out.

Everything in the yellow and black tape was hers. Her world.

Or at least it once was.

Right now everyone was scurrying, scurrying - it was the usual hive of activity but from her years of experience she knew it didn't just happen. It took someone to set it off, focus everyone's attentions to the task at hand. She followed the activity towards it's centre - the slim woman in black who knelt down before the body line. "Captain Raydor!" She barked out, crossing her arms across her chest. "Just what do you think you're doin'?" She watched as the other woman rose and turned on her heel to address her superior. She loved it. She really, really did. Brenda didn't care much for the trappings of power other than that it let her do what she needed to do without much resistance, but this? Raydor's institutionalized obedience? It was absolutely delicious to her.

"Chief Johnson." Raydor nodded, schooling her features in an imitation of deference. It was all as it should be, except for the flash in her green eyes that hinted at the challenge that always lay between them. "I was just setting up and assessing the situation -"

"Without me? Now was this a deliberate attempt at underminin' me? Or did it slip your mind that a shootin' of an officer falls under Major Crimes?" She smiled up at the other woman, returning the look with one of her own. It never got old, working with Raydor. Brenda was someone who worked best under pressure, proving herself - she didn't care much for ease or deference. Neither did the other woman, she suspected.

"No ma'am. Neither. I was the first on the scene and noticed that there was no other senior officer present. The press was starting to gather and so I took charge until your arrival. I did not overstep my bounds, nor did I -"

"You didn't overstep your bounds, Captain? Did I hear you correctly? Then why'd I have to duck down under your red tape?"

"You do generally dislike getting involved in red tape, Chief."

"I wasn't making a joke, Captain."

"Neither was I. I had run out of yellow tape and thought it better to use the red until yellow tape arrives. If you look, Chief, it's been taken care of."

Brenda turned around to notice Flynn helping a uniform replace the red tape with yellow. She couldn't help but roll her eyes, thankful that the other woman couldn't see her. There was something in Sharon Raydon and her Girl Scout levels of preparedness that reminded Brenda of being 7 years old and shooting daggers and throwing worms at Roberta Watson who got every badge and set every record. She had a stray thought about where she could find some worms at this time of night. "Alright Captain..." She sighed, turning around. "Why don't you tell me what happened here?"

"Well Chief. This here -" She bent down to the taped outline of the body "Was Officer Nicholas Reese. About 45 minutes ago he was patrolling with his partner Officer Welles when Officer Reese's wife, Samantha pulled up -" She pointed to the blue Dodge that was meticulously parallel parked alongside the curb. "Got out, grabbed his gun and shot him point blank." Brenda tried not to wince. "She then handed the gun to Officer Welles, turned around and offered him her wrists to cuff."

"How considerate." Brenda murmured, surveying the scene. "How many witnesses?"

"About 4 - not counting Officer Welles."

"Who were they?" Brenda stuffed her hands in her pockets, shivering slightly against the cold breeze, reassured by the familiar crinkle of plastic.

"Gentlemen?" Sharon greeted the two men heading over. "The witnesses?"

"Hey Chief." Gabriel greeted, nodding towards her. She couldn't help but notice his unease at which woman to report to. A sidelong glance to Sharon beside her revealed a small smirk on her face as well.

"The witnesses, Detective?" Brenda prodded.

"Four -" Tao began, referring to his notes, although one was kinda -" He made the drinky motion with his hand, his thumb and pinky extended out. "So, you know - more like three. All of them saw the same thing - woman shows up, grabs the gun, then shoots and returns the gun to the partner."

"Did she say anything?" Brenda asked

"No one heard anything." Gabriel answered - trying to save face.

"Alright gentlemen," She nodded to dismiss them. "Well Captain, the clock is ticking."

"Seventy one hours."

Together they started walking away from the gathering crowds at the barricades. It seems Will had arrived and stood before the lights, issuing out the phrase 'No comment' in as many different ways he knew how.

"Seems open and shut." Brenda said, pulling her hands out of her pockets to rub them together.

"It does." Raydor answered hesitantly.

"Am I missing something?"

"No Chief."

"But?"

"But...it's the easy ones that worry me. It's the easy ones that make you let your guard down." She answered, taking her time picking out her words carefully. This may have been one of the most personal exchanges they'd had. Brenda couldn't help but snort at the thought - they were pathetic. The other woman raised an eyebrow.

"Not you, Captain - I just realized..." She shook her head, "Doesn't matter. So, it's your show. What's next?"

"Excuse me?" Raydor asked, unsure of what she had just heard.

"I said it's your show - you've done an...adequate job so far. You've had a chance to watch me work, let's see how you do things. I want to see how you run a crime scene for the night. After all, your investigation must go first, isn't that what you said?"

"Yes, well - ah..."

"Captain Raydor, are you speechless?" Brenda asked.

"No Chief. Just...yes. Yes I am." Raydor admitted.

"If you want, I can take command -" Brenda offered with a smile. This one may have even reached her eyes.

"No Chief. I'm fine." Raydor cut her off instantly, not willing to let this chance go by.

"Good." The two women stood there for a minute - whatever hung between them remained there before Brenda turned to look at Will, letting the moment end. "He has no idea what's going on, does he?"

"No Chief, he does not." Raydor answered before she reached into the pocket of her trench. "Should we rescue him?"

"No Captain, we should not." Brenda smirked, watching Will get swarmed by the microphones.

"Well then, if you'll excuse me?" The other woman pulled out a thin pair of leather gloves from her trench pocket and handed them to the blonde before she walked away, calling out directions.

"Thank you." Brenda answered to no one. She had to admit, command suited Raydor, it fit her easily.

"Chief." Flynn sauntered up to her, "What's the plan?"

"The plan?" She asked.

"Yeah, the plan. Now that you're here -"

"Well Lieutenant, the plan is to ask Captain Raydor." She watched as confusion clouded his face. She held a soft spot in her heart for Andy Flynn. She didn't know why other then the fact he made her laugh.

"But..."

"It's her show to call. I think I'm goin' to step back and observe this one. It seems open and shut and I want to see how she runs things."

"But..."

"You already said that." She teased. "Now if there's nothin' else - I suggest you check in with her."

"Chief?" He asked, eyeing her warily, she could see him mind working, wondering if this was another feminine trap. "Does this mean you two are friends now?"

"Friends?"

"Yeah, you know - hair braiding, pillow fighting, clothes swapping - friends."

"Bite your tongue Lieutenant!"

"Just checking." He shrugged before he headed off in the general direction of the brunette, leaving Brenda alone.

Friends?

The thought alone made her shudder.

-TBC


	3. Act One

**Title**: Between Friends - Act One [The Closer]

**Rating**: PG-13

**Disclaimer**: Not mine, never was.

**Summary**: Raydor and Johnson clash over the murder of an officer on his beat. Each woman has something to lose, but what if they also discover something they can gain?

What had she been thinking last night?

Brenda looked around the squad room and began to rethink her benevolence to the Captain at the crime scene. She clearly wasn't in the right mind, letting Raydor take over like that. She hadn't done anything wrong... it just made it difficult now that she was here and ready to lead her team and Captain Raydor was nowhere to be found. She supposed she could just start without h-

"Sorry, Chief." Raydor apologized as she entered the room, a large shopping bag and a cardboard box in her hand.

"Hit a cow on the freeway, Captain?" Provenza asked, taking in her outfit.

"Oh, I'm sorry Lieutenant..." The brunette looked down at her clothes. An ivory blouse tucked into a black leather skirt. "Was she family?"

"Nice of you to show up to the party Captain." Brenda responded, rolling her eyes at the outfit choice, though she didn't quite know why. It was fitted, but not tight, above the knee but not inappropriate. In fact, it was tasteful - but there was something about the way it sat on the other woman that made it look just a little... "I was rather hopin' you'd have your report ready but -"

"I'm sorry Chief." Raydor set down her bag on the empty desk along the wall - Brenda noticed a cup of coffee and Raydor's laptop already set up. "I'd have it sooner but you're out of toner. I've asked I.T. to send more up." From the cardboard box she pulled out the report and began passing it around.

"Well Captain," Brenda responded tersely, "Why don't walk us through it?" She stepped aside to let the other woman come up to the white board.

She ran a firm hand over her brow hoping to ease the tension that had built up all morning but found it didn't help. Surely the demise of EVERYTHING she'd known justified a nibble of the good stuff? She lowered her hand into her pocket and grasped the bag of Skittles she'd stuffed in there. It was like her safety blanket these last few weeks - every morning she'd shove it into the pocket of whatever she'd wear that day, furtive and guilty that she needed it. She didn't - at least that's what she'd tell herself every morning, but still couldn't help herself. She found that since Fritz's departure, she'd turn to this bag of candy nibbles, not to eat, but to clutch at nervously. Lately she'd taken to shifting them like worry beads, pushing each one with her thumb from one end of the packet to the other - much like she was doing now. She forced herself to focus on Raydor's recap in front of her.

"I'd like to go in and question her. Officer Welles has an appointment to see me this afternoon and if I can finish up with Samantha, I'll be able to file the report by tonight, well within my deadline."

"Well Captain if you'll be *well* within your deadline, maybe you'll let us question Samantha first? Let us get the real crime out of the way. You can then file your report tomorrow morning." Brenda didn't know why she was being difficult, she just knew Raydor was going to be the focus of it - at least until someone better came along. She wondered what Will was doing for lunch.

"Why?"

"Excuse me Captain Raydor? Did you just ask me why?"

"I did Chief. There's plenty of other work that can be done with your case, mine simply needs the -"

"If there's plenty of other work that can be done on *my* case, I think you see why we need to go first when it comes to questioning Samantha before...well before she lawyers up." Brenda threw in a decisive little nod, proud of how she finished her argument. She was damned if she was going to lose something this petty to Raydor. If she gave in on the small stuff, it would just be a hop, skip and a jump to just turning her team over to the arrogant woman.

"I still don't see why this matters - she hasn't asked for so much as a hair tie, let alone a lawyer. She won't - she seems hellbent on penance for something -"

"Yeah, Captain - it's called killin' her husband? You remember, the dead cop in the morgue downstairs?" Flynn called out, slumping over his arms on his desk. Watching these two go at it was like watching those damned cat videos Provenza was always sending him - fun at first, but just really boring after a while. There was only so many times you could watch small, fluffy things scratch and hiss at each other and be entertained.

"I do remember, Lt. Flynn. Thank you. The sooner we can close the case on *how* the man died, we can focus on *why* he died. Right now there's a lot of rumours floating around about that 'dead cop' downstairs - I can't think of a better way to honour a fallen officer than clearing them up, can you?"

"No ma'am." He responded. He hated when she was right. And she tended to be right more times then he liked to think about.

"Alright - here's what we're gonna do..." Brenda moved her hand to her brow again, feeling the pressure continue to build. "The Captain and I are goin' to question Ms. Reese in an as yet to be determined order. Lt. Tao, since Buzz is out visitin' his Nana -" She paused while the team made their requisite snickers, "You'll be filmin' for us. Lt.s Provenza and Flynn, I'd like for you to go to the Reese house and poke around, see if you can find -" She put her hand up to cut off Raydor before she could speak "-you're going to investigate the victim, not the suspect, that'll get you by without a warrant. Detectives Gabriel & Sanchez, I want you two to hang around and see what comes up from the interview. Let's go Captain." Brenda quickly turned on her heel and headed out towards the interview room, knowing Raydor had to jog to catch up to her.

"Chief -" Captain Raydor called out after her as she rounded the corner and waited at the door to the interrogation room, "Just a moment?"

"Yes Captain, what can I do for you?"

"I just wanted to talk, make sure we're on the same page before we begin."

"I didn't realize we weren't on the same page. I assumed that when a superior officer gives an order, her subordinates get onto the page she wants them to."

"Yes ma'am. It's just -"

"Did you not hear me, Captain? You will get on whatever damned page I'm on - be it 'It was a dark and stormy night' to 'and they lived happily ever after'."

"And just what page are we on, Chief Johnson?" Raydor asked her, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"Well, ah. I don't know just yet." Brenda stood there for a moment before pushing the door open to their side of the room. She could feel the headache grow stronger - she just needed some time away from this woman, and maybe this office. Just a nice day curled up in her bathrobe watching some awful, awful television and eating as many Robin's Eggs and Twizzlers her body could take. Just the thought of it, her perfect day, left her with a tranquil feeling. "Ok, here it is -" She watched as a uniformed officer lead in Samantha Reese. "You will go first. You will complete your report. You will turn it in. It will be spectacular. You will leave Major Crimes and we will all celebrate like they did when the house crushed your sister back in Oz, do you understand me?" Brenda pretended she didn't hear Tao's muffled laugh as he walked into the room mid-diatribe followed by Detectives Gabriel and Sanchez.

"Yes Chief. Absolutely." Sharon's eyes narrowed some more. Brenda wondered how the other woman could see anything with them so tightly drawn together. She did that when she was angry - you could tell a lot about the older woman's mood by her eyes - open wide meant something was going on, narrowed was thinly concealed rage. There was a third look, one that she hadn't seen many times, just out of the corner of her eye now and then, that she didn't understand, couldn't quite read.

"Well, what are you waitin' for? Get in there." Brenda cocked her head towards their suspect and stepped closer to the other woman to lead her towards the door. "Go get 'em, or nab 'em, or do whatever it is your department does. Steal her candy - I don't care. Just...shoo!"

The two women stood there for a moment, sizing the other up. Brenda noticed the brunette cocked her head to the side as if to gain a new perspective. Let her try - she almost laughed - she'd love to see someone make sense of her, Lord knows Fritz couldn't. After an all but imperceptible nod, Captain Raydor turned on her heel and walked out. "Well," Brenda clasped her hands together and smiled nervously, turning towards Tao, "Let's see how long it takes her to screw this up, shall we?"

Sharon entered the room after a minute or two of waiting and Brenda watched as she quietly introduced herself to the other woman, then sat down across from her - taking her time as she set down her file folder, her note pad, her pen - until they were all just so. She wasn't sure if it was a delaying tactic, or a power trip, or just her precise personality coming out - whatever it was, it wasn't working. Samantha Reese was indifferent to the performance. Brenda took this time to look at the other woman. Her limp blond hair was hanging around her face, under her brown eyes were deep lines and bags - more than could be explained from a single sleepless night in lock up. "You know Chief," Tao murmured as he watched the screen in front of him, "She kinda looks like you - you know, if you just shot a man."

"Yes, thank you for that observation, Lt." She huffed, pretending she hadn't just been thinking the same thing. "Can you just get the sound louder?" The tinny sound from the other side of the mirror grew louder as Sharon's session began in ernest:

Sharon Raydor: And so on the evening of April 18th, 2011 you -

Samantha Reese: Killed my husband.

Sharon Raydor: You do you know you're well within your rights to request a lawyer, correct?

Samantha Reese: Yes.

Sharon Raydor: And you're choosing to waive that right?

Samantha Reese: Yes. Are we done here?

Sharon Raydor: Not quite. Can you tell me how you killed your husband, Nicholas Reese? Can you walk me through it?

Samantha Reese: I drove up to where he and Paul, Officer Welles were, I parked my car, I got out of it, I walked up towards him, asked to see his gun, he said no, I grabbed it from him, then shot him.

Sharon Raydor: How did you get his gun?

Samantha Reese: He doesn't keep it snapped in. He has a nervous habit or playing with things like snaps, he likes to flick them.

Sharon Raydor: I see. I have to ask, Mrs. Reese, why did you do it?

Samantha Reese: For Michael.

Sharon Raydor: Care to elaborate?

Samantha Reese: Nick killed Michael.

Brenda looked on, eyes widening - she knew this moment all too well, she'd faced it countless times, sitting across the cold, metal table as you watched the witness before you shut down. It was like a switch being flicked - turning off the lights, shutting the flow of water. There was often little warning - even she would be blindsided time to time.

It was too late. The interview had stalled. Damn.

"What's she doing in there?" Brenda waved a hand behind her to silence the intrusion of Will Pope.

Sharon Raydor: Who's Michael and how did he kill him?

Samantha Reese: ...

Sharon Raydor: Samantha, who's Michael?

Samantha Reese: I'd like to go back to my cell now.


End file.
